We, Beasts
by Tiki Rane Gobell
Summary: As Master of Death, Harry feels himself going dark and so he tries to put himself as far away from temptations as possible. Of course, things could never be that easy for him. Powerful and immortal (but kind of apathetic) Harry. LOTR Crossover. Love triangles. Short Story.
1. Chapter 1

We, Beasts

A/N: So, super niche story right here. For all you folks who have been looking for a short cross-over story where Harry is in a love-triangle with Fenrir and Legolas. Just me? Well, here you go anyway.

Chapter 1

Strands of hair fell into bright green eyes, hair as dark as the hour in which the man silently walked through the creaking and moving forest. The forbidden forest was treacherous in the daylight, much less at midnight. Yet, the man's heart was calm and his manner, unhurried. He did not know why he kept returning to this place. The place of his death and resurrection. The place he sacrificed his humanity for the rest of human kind.

"Harry Potter," whispered a voice in the darkness. He heard the hooves before he saw the body of a man attached to a horse. He blossomed out of the darkness like a white rose with thorns of arrows drawn and ready. "It is not a wise night to wander these woods," stated the centaur, his bow pointed at the ground but still ready for the creatures of the night. The centaurs face gazed upwards at a break in the tree canopy. Harry could see the starlight reflected in the centaur's eyes. "Mercury is bright tonight and it passes by in front of a distant star. Worlds will collide tonight. Be careful, Harry Potter."

And he was gone, the sound of his hooves fading soon after.

"Centaurs," Harry huffed to himself, rolling his eyes. He continued walking a familiar path despite the warning.

Suddenly, he was grabbed around the neck and held against a strong body.

"I could break your neck so easily, my sweet," the creature growled. "And you wouldn't do a thing to stop me, would you?" The grip became softer and one of the rough hands ran through Harry's hair gently. The other hand rested against Harry's chest. "Your heart is still calm. Can't you feel it anymore?"

The hand on his chest worked into his robes and palmed warm, bare flesh. Soon, the beast had Harry completely unclothed laying in the leaves of the forest floor and his body worked up and ready for release. Harry gave back as good as he was given, working off the man's rough and torn clothes, fingers digging in and scratching down his strong back. Harry gasped as a finger entered him. "Fenrir! Please!" he begged.

"Ah, so you still know what it feels like to want, to need." Fenrir taunted, lining himself up to Harry's hole. "Your heart is racing now," he whispered in Harry's ear before plunging in brutally. Harry all but howled in pleasure. "Is this why you still come to me after all these years?" the werewolf asked as he thrust into the young man beneath him. "I make you feel alive."

Fenrir rolled over onto his back, taking Harry with him, connected as they were. "Go ahead," Fenrir commanded Harry who sat on top of him now, "take what you need from me." Harry started rocking himself on Fenrir's length, in-out-in-out, mind only focused on his breathing and his pleasure and senseless to the sounds he was making. "I promise I'll enjoy it," Fenrir whispered, grabbing Harry's hips and helping him move harder and faster.

It wasn't long until Harry was shooting his climax over Fenrir's stomach and the werewolf only let him sit a second before gathering him up, setting him down on his knees, and taking him from behind like the animal he really was. Harry rested his face on his arms to keep it out of the dirt against the hard and quick thrusts of the large man and was satisfied by letting his body be used. Fenrir flooded Harry's insides with one last long deep thrust, then pulled out, before rearranging Harry the way he wanted for a quick, after-sex nap.

Harry laid there awake after the man had fallen asleep, drawing imaginary designs on the muscular man's arm with his finger, thinking about why he was there.

Harry had fought against Fenrir in the War - sometimes in person but always in ideals. Fenrir was the man, some would call monster, who turned children, including Remus Lupin, into werewolves, trying gain more power for werewolves but actually increasing the prejudice against them as mindless beasts. He was more animal than man near the full moon. He had escaped the last battle in the confusion after Harry had killed Voldemort.

Remus Lupin had died along with his wife, leaving Harry the godfather of their newborn baby Teddy Lupin. Teddy had just finished his last year of Hogwarts and was living in Hungary, taming dragons. Harry was always worried about Teddy - he was just as clumsy as his mother but as brilliant as his father. He was a charmer that could easily talk himself out of trouble. He had used this skill against Harry many times growing up. But now he was gone, grown and soon would probably start a family of his own.

Harry had been an Auror for a bit - not a very good one though. Harry had been a shell of himself in those years after the war. He feared no pain, death, or other consequence which didn't lend itself to the Auror job very well. He couldn't connect to his fellow aurors, made dangerous decisions that often backfired on those around him, and he fought with the same ferocity and the same spells as the dark perpetrators he was trying to put behind bars. With every bad guy Harry put down, Harry had more and more trouble finding the differences between the bad guy and himself. His one redeeming quality was his unconditional love for his godson, Teddy.

It soon became apparent, however, that Harry was not aging. He transferred to the Department of Mysteries, where the Unspeakables enjoyed studying him and his peculiarities and where Harry enjoyed testing himself and his magic. Eventually though, the Unspeakables had run out of theories and tests and had settled on those three magical artifacts that Harry had accidentally collected in his youth - the Master of Death they called him. They assumed he couldn't be harmed...not permanently anyway. There were a number of unpleasant tests that led to this assumption. Retiring to the school he loved, Harry became something of a trademark to the school, teaching Muggle Studies (no one else had wanted the position after what had happened to the previous teacher). Class numbers had never been so high for that elective before.

Harry was content but not happy. His old friends would call him depressed, but they didn't see him in moments like these where he waited for his heart rate to calm, his adrenaline to settle. They had never seen him during the full moon. Which is actually how Harry ran into Fenrir, years after the war. During his time at the Unspeakables, Harry had studied to become an animagus. He was a solid black unicorn, but with a white horn on his forehead. When he first started teaching, he would run in the forest by the school. During the night of the full moon, a werewolf had joined him running. They had tired themselves out and had slept peacefully wound together until morning, when Fenrir had transformed back into a man. Fenrir the man had then started petting Harry the black unicorn, whispering such sweet and gentle words. It had moved Harry and he transformed back into a man. Fenrir hadn't stopped petting him and Harry didn't try to stop him. It was dirty and rough, but Harry had enjoyed sex with the werewolf. Fenrir thought it would be his last chance before being carted off to prison as the savior ex-auror was bound to tell about a wanted man hiding in the forest. He did not know he would have such a willing body to sate his needs.

As Harry had straightened his clothes afterwards, prepared to return to the castle, he asked, "Same time next month?" Fenrir had just stared in incredulity, making the young wizard give a hearty laugh. "Well, I'm hardly going to go turn you in since I would have to tell them I had to stop for some quick sex with the convict before nabbing him." Fenrir had only grunted in response.

"If you dare to even thinking of harming a student of Hogwarts though, I will bring the whole ministry down on you," Harry had threatened before leaving, magic thick in the air.

Harry had returned the next full moon, and the one after that. Soon, Harry was coming to Fenrir more often than the full moons. There was not much to their relationship - just lots of rough sex and some pillow-talk afterwards. But it was the only time Harry felt like he could release himself in his otherwise pale, tightly-controlled life. Harry was content, but in moments like these, he was almost happy.

Harry finished his musing and checked his surroundings for threats before setting up a proximity ward and following Fenrir to unconsciousness for a quick nap.

It was light out when Harry woke and the first thing he noticed was the lack of his proximity ward. It hadn't gone off - it was just gone. Harry pulled himself out from under Fenrir, waking him in the process, and started gathering his clothes. His body ached. It felt good. His head ached as well though and he was dizzy. He stumbled while trying to pull up his pants. Luckily, Fenrir was up and was able to catch him before a nasty fall. The werewolf gave Harry a concerned look.

"Don't worry..." Harry said massaging his forehead, "It's just a headache. It's already going away." And oddly it was disappearing rapidly as Harry put on the rest of his clothes. He pulled his wand out of his cloak after pulling it on and checked the time. "It's 10. I didn't mean to sleep so long. Thank Merlin it's a Saturday or I would have some explaining to do to my morning classes."

"Well...see you later," Harry said, trying not to be awkward on the morning after. He got a toothy yawn in response from a still naked Fenrir.

Harry started to head back Hogwarts. He only made it about three steps outside of the clearing they were in that was form by a circular rock formation. The rocks were the same, but Harry quickly noticed the forest was not.

"The trees are different," he told Fenrir. "Look at the leaves. What type of tree is that?"

Fenrir shrugged, "Maybe you just missed it last night in the dark."

"Maybe. But it's been a strange morning already. Something seems off," Harry said. A thrill of excitement went up his spine. Harry laid his wand in the palm of his hand. "Point me Hogwarts," he intoned clearly. The wand spun around aimlessly. Harry's eyebrows rose in confusion.

The wizard continued his steps to where Hogwarts should be. Fenrir dressed and followed without needing to be asked. The paths were different, he noted. And the smell of the creatures as well.

"Maybe someone is trying to play a prank on us and moved us while we slept," Harry suggested.

"Who knows that I'm out here? And why would _Point Me_ fail?" Fenrir brought up. Harry didn't have an answer for either question.

They kept walking until their stomachs started growling. About that time they came across a great hole in the earth.

"It's as if a tree just uprooted itself and walked away," Harry joked as he used a large log nearby for a seat and started to pull out a mole skin pouch from around his neck. "It's not much, but I think I still have some rock cakes in here from when I visited Hagrid for tea. They're not the best, but they're food."

Fenrir had no problem tearing into the cakes but Harry had to be careful not to chip a tooth. Harry then pulled a muggle water bottle out of the pouch. He took a sip and made a face. "It tastes like plastic," he complained, pouring it out. "The bottle has been in here for a long time. Last June, I think, when I was playing quidditch with the Weasleys." Harry used his wand to refill the bottle with an aquamenti charm. He took a long draw from the fresh water before offering the bottle to Fenrir.

When Fenrir was done, Harry quickly packed everything up and put his hands on his hips. "Well, I think it's official. We're not in Kansas anymore. We would have stumbled upon Hogwarts by now. I do not want to try to apparate without knowing how far we are going. And let's save illegal portkeys for an emergency. Our best bet is to find people who can tell us where we are."

"I can smell smoke from that direction," Fenrir pointed to their right.

"Good. Where there is smoke, there is fire. And hopefully a good-sort of people that made the fire."

And so they took off in the direction of the smoke.

"Do you get the feeling that we are being watched?" Harry asked quietly of Fenrir.

Fenrir nodded, "The whole forest feels heavy and smells of ancient magic."

"Maybe we just got caught up in a natural magical anomaly. We were sleeping in a druid summoning circle. Did you see the rocks? Maybe even though the druids have died out, some of their magic remains?"

Fenrir shrugged. Harry fell into silence and followed the strong, large man.

They could see the sky that was filled with smoke now. They were getting close. They couldn't see what was causing all of the smoke though. However, there was a wall, an ancient battlement, that was crumbling enough to climb up to the top. From there, they could see everything.

"Holy shit," Harry murmured from his vantage point right next to Fenrir. Harry was 5'10'' but he looked short next to the tall man, who was twice as broad and stood head-and-shoulders taller than Harry.

Out in front of them, there was a soaring stone tower. It looked as if it were out of a chess game for giants who played across the world. The tower was smoking, or rather, the grounds all around the tower, where they could see great trenches dug into the earth, were steaming. Water had recently doused all the flames but they could still feel the heat against their faces as a breeze carried it past. Around the tower, figures moved - giant moving trees! Going away from the tower, a band of men on horses caught their eye, led by an old man on a white horse. Survivors? Or conquerors?

By common accord, Harry and Fenrir did not bring attention to themselves. Perhaps the men were evil, or perhaps they were good. They were dressed in such primitive armaments that it was like they had taken a step out of the past. Metal armor, glistening chainmail, and sharp swords could be seen, and was that an axe on the back of the very short and very hairy man? Fenrir shifted his weight from one leg to the other and suddenly attention was on them - such sharp eyes! A bow was drawn and a warning arrow was shot in a fraction of a second. Fenrir just barely was able to move his cheek out of the way to miss the grazing shot.

"Who goes there!?" commanded a man in armor finer than the others. Nobility perhaps?

Harry put his hands up in surrender. "Travelers, sir. Lost travelers hoping for directions."

"Come down so that we can see you properly," the kingly man commanded.

Harry's stomach caught in his throat as Fenrir grabbed him and jumped down from the high height of the wall to the ground. He landed with supernaturally-aided strength and grace before releasing Harry again.

Harry could see several of the men visibly gulp with astonished looks on their faces. Fenrir was a sight to behold, all wild silver hair, glowing gold eyes, sharp teeth, tight corded muscle, and several wicked scars on his neck and arms. That, and the size of him.

Moving forward, Harry noticed several hands gripping swords in a white-knuckled grip. He kept his arms up in a placating manner and wondered what could have such capable men on their toes. Harry addressed the blond man that seemed to be in charge.

"My name is Harry and this is Fenrir," Harry greeted, motioning to the werewolf. "We are from Hogwarts, in Scotland, and are trying to find our way back."

"I've not heard of such lands," the blond man said. Harry closed his eyes in acceptance. Something about the face Harry made gave the blond man pause. "I am Theodred, King of Rohan." He motioned an old man forward. "This is Gandalf, of the istari. He is much more well-travelled than I. Perhaps he knows this land you speak of."

The old man shook his head. "Alas, I have never heard of Hogwarts or Scotland."

"Pardon me, sir," Harry said, "But might we travel with your company to the nearest city in hopes that we can figure out how lost we are?"

"We travel by horseback and have no extra. You may travel with us, but it is very likely you and your companion will get left behind."

"My horse can hold one more small load," said a man with long silvery blond hair. It was the same man that had fired an arrow at them moments before. Harry's brow creased in a frown when he realized he was being referred to as a 'small load.'

"Go, I'll be fine," Fenrir urged him. Fenrir was a werewolf and would have no problems keeping up with the horses with his physical stamina. And if the way the horses tried to edge away from him was any indication, he would have trouble riding one anyway. They could sense the beast inside of him.

"Thank you sir," Harry accepted before allowing the very blond man to pull him up in front on him in the saddle. The man already had the small hairy man sitting behind him and it was a tight fit. Harry was completely pressed against the front of the man, and Harry could tell he was fit through his light cloak.

As they started on their way, the man said. "I am Legolas of Mirkwood. I wasn't sure until you were seated before me if you were a man or a woman, traveller Harry. You are a very beautiful man."

"Many men would take offense at being called beautiful," Harry scolded, but there was no heat behind his words. " You may call me Harry, just Harry is fine."

"You cannot blame Legolas for being rude, Harry. He is an elf - it is in their nature," said the short man from the back of the horse. "I am Gimli, son of Gloin at your service. You'll soon find that dwarves are much better-mannered than the elves."

Harry turned his head so to better face his conversationalists. Legolas had a look on his face that told Harry this was a very old argument and so he chose to divert the conversation.

"An elf? I've never met an elf before." Harry highly doubted that bringing up the enslavement of house-elves would help him in his current situation.

Legolas turned his head so as to better show his pointed ears. "Well, now you can say you have seen the fairest of all the races."

"You are a very beautiful man ," Harry granted the elf, mirroring his earlier compliment. "But don't let it go to your head. If your ears get any bigger, you might fall over and damage your perfect face."

Gimli, the dwarf, nearly fell off the horse because of his belly-deep chuckles. "Oh! I like this one. He's feisty!"

"If only dwarves had anything in their heads," responded the elf.

"This land seems so different than our own," Harry said some time later, bored to death from travelling.

"How so?" asked the elf.

"You and Gimli for starters. We do not have your races from where we are from. Are there many other races in these lands?"

"There is the race of men. King Théoden is the King of the Men from Rohan. Aragorn," he pointed to a handsome, if understated, dark haired man, "is the heir of the throne of Gondor, another kingdom of man. There are also hobbits. That's Merry and that's Pippin, the half-lings. They're a hearty and well-mannered race. Then there are the Istari. There are not many of them left in this realm."

"King Theoden introduced Gandalf as an Istari. What exactly does that mean? He just looks like a man."

"The Istari are wizards, Harry. They know the magic words and have the great wisdom to guide us...as long as they stay out of the darkness." Harry shared a look with Fenrir. This wizard may be able to help them.

"And then there are the dark races: the goblins or orcs. They want nothing more than to destroy the world around them and rally behind dark wizards. They are twisted souls and pure evil."

"Thank you, Legolas. You have helped me understand a lot."

After an exhausting day travelling on horseback, Harry decided both the elf and the dwarf were delightful company regardless what one would say about the other. Harry wasn't sure yet if it was a cultural thing or not, but Harry also found that Legolas did not mind further encroaching on Harry's personal space with many light touches through the day. Maybe they were just a touchy-feely race?

While the company started setting up camp and lighting fires, Harry started catching the first of the distrustful glances from the soldiers. Fenrir wasn't making it any better the way he showed off his strength while helping collect wood for the camp fires. Harry also caught some wary glances as he easily started wet wood that others could not get lit.

"There was a wizard in these woods," the elf explained without prompting, "A trickster. He was known to take many forms and many faces. He nearly destroyed the land of Rohan." Legolas was studying Harry's face intently.

Harry paused in chewing some bread that had been provided for dinner. Tilting his head and swallowing roughly, "Do you think I am him?"

The elf gave a brilliant smile. "I believe you have many secrets to be discovered. But the white wizard has never been told to have such a pretty face. Or eyes as green. They are as green as the wood I was named for."

"Again with the compliments! Never in my life has anyone been so kind to notice me so much," Harry replied, with a blush. The fun moment was ruined by a snort from Fenrir.

"I think you just normally ignore others. I've seen the way they throw themselves at you," the werewolf shared his two-cents.

"That's different. They love the idea, not the person. I don't think anyone has seen me in years." Suddenly, Legolas was seeing someone old and weathered. Harry hadn't physically changed, but there was a look in his eyes that spoke of better times and worse times. Long times ago.

"Are you some sort of royalty, Harry? Is that one of your secrets? I hope to discover them all," Legolas whispered.

He received a deep, rich laugh from Harry, a true laugh. "You paint me all wrong! Me, royalty? Ha! I'm a school teacher! Such a boring man I am!" There was a shared look between Harry and Fenrir again, something so quick, Legolas assumed only he picked up on it in the dark, with the flickering fire, and deep down, Legolas knew he was not far off the mark with his guess, regardless of what the other man claimed or believed. It was in the way the beastly man deferred to Harry, in the way Harry held himself and commanded attention. It was in the jewelry Harry wore on his fingers. Harry was used to being in charge and he was someone important. But Legolas believed Harry in what he said. He believed that Harry thought he was truly just a boring young man. Legolas also knew in his heart that Harry was wrong about himself. He could hear it in the wind and see it dancing in the stars.

"I saw for myself the white wizard dead today, so I know you are not he. I also can see for myself that you are anything but boring."

The elf was so intense that Harry excused himself, embarrassed. "Looks can be deceiving," he softly replied before going to find the Istari he had only briefly met.

Legolas' eyes followed him the whole way.

"You should stop staring at him," the beastly man, Fenrir, suggested gruffly.

"And let you?" Legolas challenged, with a raised brow, still not taking his eyes off the young man. He had taken down cave trolls with his bow, this man would pose no challenge, no matter how muscular he was.

"I don't need to stare. I've already sampled."

"And perhaps a sample is all you'll get. I believe Harry is the one that gets to decide."

Fenrir gave a growl, responding with a snarled lip and refusing to look, talk, or even so much as accept drink from the elf the rest of the night.

Gimli noticed Fenrir's snub when he returned from helping chop the wood collected for fires. "I see you treated him to your renown hospitality already," he commented to the elf.

"Sir, might I have a word?" Harry asked the istari quietly after escaping from Legolas.

"Come sit," the wizard invited. "I hoped you would seek me out. I sense a great many questions from you. But I wonder, where do you keep your staff?" Gandalf said it with a friendly smile, and even lit the new pile of wood near him with his staff.

It warmed Harry's heart and reminded him of certain headmaster of Hogwarts. Maybe it was because Gandalf reminded him of Dumbledore so much that he felt he could trust him. Harry gave a mischievous grin as he said, "It's not always the size that matters." Discreetly, he lifted his sleeve to show Gandalf the wand tucked up against his arm in its holder.

Gandalf chuckled heartily and almost blew out the flame he was lighting his pipe with. "Certainly so! I met enough hobbits in my day to never judge a book by its cover. Now, let's get to the bottom of your problem. You're a long way from home."

Harry smiled sadly. "I think I've heard and seen enough to know that the distance cannot be measured by any path man can take. What do you know of the druids?"

"Druids?" Gandalf said around his pipe. "My, you have gotten yourself in some trouble then. Though, I have found that druids never do anything unless they have a reason. Even if that reason is hard to see, or even impossible because of a decision someone makes. They always have a scheme in mind."

"I was afraid of that. It's kind of been the motto of my life," he said quietly, gazing into the fire. Under normal circumstances, he would've enjoyed the campfires. It would mean his friends and family gathered in one place, good quidditch and lots of laughter. He might have had to scold Teddy for making out with Bill's daughter, Victoire, but all in good spirits and good company.

"What are we meant to do?" Harry asked. "That's always how things like this go."

"Do?" Gandalf repeated, "There's nothing you are meant to do. Just be. Your path will be made clear soon enough."

Harry pressed, "You have no idea then? No feelings or guesses? That's the way of wizards like you."

Gandalf gave Harry a measured look. "Are you not a wizard then?"

"Not an old one. You have to be a certain age to just guess your way correctly through fate."

Gandalf just laughed in response, but suddenly quieted. "We are in the midst of war. The end of the age of men, and elf, and dwarf should we fail. My guess is that you are here to turn the tide."

"I'm not that sort of wizard, Gandalf," Harry shook his head sadly. "I fear the beast I feel inside, darkness is always on the edge of my vision."

Gandalf shook his head, "You will not fight? I had hoped...I can feel how strong you are. I think you'll find that you are stronger than you give yourself credit for."

"This is not my war to fight and I fear the results if I try would not be in your favor," Harry reiterated, "but I can help heal those who do."

"We will need a lot of healing," Gandalf said, suddenly looking like the world was heavy upon his shoulders. " Who knows, perhaps this is your quest? What of your companion?"

"I cannot speak for him."

"I sense an animal in him. A shape-shifter? Bear?"

"Wolf," Harry corrected.

"He must be a big wolf then," the grey wizard said doubtfully.

"The largest I've ever seen," Harry agreed. "Thank you, Gandalf. I'm not sure if I know more than before, but I feel as if I am exactly where I am supposed to be."

"Then you are," Gandalf agreed.

Harry returned to his original fire, both happy that the elf was on guard duty and could not continue the conversation from earlier, but also sad because Harry missed his good company. Harry swatted away Fenrir's hands as he tried to pull him to lay with him but whispered, "The wizard believes we were pulled here for a reason but it is unclear of what that reason is."

"Are you supposed to fight this war?"

"It's not my war to fight, and I refuse to get involved." Harry said sternly before pulling the blanket tightly to his chin and closing his eyes. "Maybe you're supposed to win it for them."

"Hmpf, I doubt that," Fenrir rebuffed, finally giving up on sleeping with Harry. "I only know how to cheat to make the best possible end for myself."

"How's that working for you right now?" asked Harry, smug in the face of a small victory over the werewolf as far as sleeping arrangements go.

"It's a work in progress," responded Fenrir, "Though if these people weren't around, you know you'd be happily under me right now."

"Don't think too highly of yourself. I may as easily be under that elf," Harry argued.

A/N: Ummm... not sure how to explain myself for this one... I promised myself that I would finish Blood and Each Other and instead did this. Oops. If you wanna stick around for this one, it might be 4-5 chapters long by my notes on it.


	2. Chapter 2

We, Beasts

A/N: Really, the origin of the orcs is up for debate. I've used writer's privilege here and tweaked it to my story.

Chapter 2:

Harry woke in Fenrir's arms the next morning. "Cheater," he claimed, pinching the werewolf's bicep until he was released.

Their make-ship camp was cleaned up and the company was on the march again before the sun was fully up.

"Everyone is very efficient," Harry commented to Legolas as they rode on the horse again.

"They want to eat lunch in the halls of Theoden tomorrow," Legolas said, and by his tone, Harry assumed he was speaking of a king's castle. It brought a momentary smile to Harry's face as he remembered his first view of Hogwart's, along with a bittersweet pang in his chest.

He cleared the sudden frog in his throat at the thought of his home, friends, and family that were starting to feel like just an old dream. There was a persistent thought at the back of Harry's mind that he would never be able to return. Harry thought he should feel more than just the brief discomfort at the idea but he couldn't summon the emotion. He had long outgrown the time where he dwelled on past events and people. He only gotten so far in life by embracing a moment of grief, then picking himself up and charging onwards to face the next challenge.

"We're almost done travelling?" Harry said distractedly, still stuck in his thoughts. He forced a smile, "I'm glad!"

"Do you not like my company, Harry?" Legolas asked playfully. Again, Harry was made aware of how fit Legolas was as he seemed to press even closer to Harry while talking.

"Your company is very lovely," Harry assured, "but I am not used to riding a horse. My lower back is killing me."

"I would be happy to give you a massage when we reach Edoras," offered the elf.

"Just a massage?" Harry flirted back.

"We can start there," Legolas' smile could probably outshine the stars at their brightest. He seemed so pure to Harry, all pale glowing skin, hair of fine gold, and blue pools for eyes. They both purposely ignored the gagging noises of the dwarf that rode with them who could not stop from hearing every word.

"You do not use horses in your land?" Gimli tried to end the shameless flirting by changing the subject, "How do you get around? Surely you do not walk everywhere!"

Not really wanting to admit to being a wizard just yet, Harry began to tell him about some of the muggle inventions that Harry had experience with. Magic was best left as an ace up the sleeve, especially when he was unsure who he could trust. There was one thing Harry was perfectly sure of: if they knew about magic, it would be harder to stay out of the war that was about to start full force.

Harry met his first Orc not too long after. It was a particularly dark morning with thick clouds bleakly blocking the sun when the travelling party was ambushed by orcs while they stopped for a quick break before fording a stream. They were ugly, deformed creatures and they were the scrappiest fighters Harry had ever seen. Of course, that might have been because they were desperate and hungry and tired.

All the dread Harry had at being revealed so soon as a wizard quickly evaporated when Legolas pulled Harry behind him for protection and easily dealt with any orc that strayed too near. Harry had to swallow the bitter laugh that tried to force its way through his lips at the action. Harry couldn't remember anyone so adamant about his protection, not even when he was a child.

"My hero," Harry quibbed when the orcs had been dealt with. Only desperation had driven the orcs to attack and they were quickly overpowered with only a few minor injuries to the trained soldiers. Harry couldn't help himself from getting a closer look at an orc while the men celebrated their victory. Fenrir was receiving looks that were a bit warmer than before with the way he had taken down the orcs with his bare hands as if they and their rusty swords were nothing.

At first, Harry just thought that the orcs looked dirty because they needed to work on their personal hygiene. By the their smell and the tooth rot Harry could see, that was probably true as well. But moreover, it seem as if they were made of skin, filled with mud. Harry had seen this magic in the department of mysteries - they were golems. Bodies created out of earth, with a tortured soul that had been forcefully attached, and filled with only the most negative of emotions that were the reason the soul was not in the afterlife to begin with. Full of rage, constantly in pain, and bound to the will of the necromancer that brought them to life.

Harry was something of an expert in manners of the soul so he kneeled beside the vile creature and placed two fingers on the disgusting forehead, closing his eyes to see if the soul had been finally released with the orc's death. Sadly, the black soul was still there, festering and in so much pain. As soon as Harry touched it with his magic, it tried to latch on to him for comfort. Sadly, Harry had to beat it back before it could try to overwhelm or possess him, adding to the soul's numerous hurts already. But then Harry gave it a soothing touch, healing it, purifying it, and finally, ripping it free of the dark magic and sending it onward to the next adventure. It was raw magic, wordless and unseen. It took strength of a soul that had seen hardships and had learned how to heal on its own and it was very much like creating a patronus. Harry had to fill it with thoughts of happiness and love - thoughts of flying, and warm sunny days in the peace of hogwarts, of seeing Teddy play, of a father's pride, and a mother's sacrifice. Magic that couldn't be taught but Harry had discovered, whether due to him being the master of death or his experience of being a human horcrux.

His moment of peace was abruptly interrupted by a sword at his throat and a hand harshly yanking him up by his hair. It seemed that the orc next to one he had kneeled by had only been playing dead, but as the soldiers prepared a fire to burn the orcs bodies, it had become desperate enough to try to take Harry as a hostage to get free.

"Don't come any closer," it hissed at the group which had turned at the sudden movement. The blade dug in deep enough for blood to starting dripping down Harry's neck. The soldiers raised their weapons. "I'm warning you! Do anything and pretty here gets a head shorter!"

But the creature was already doomed. Harry had already located the black soul and was healing it and ripping it from the animated body. An arrow pierced through the orc's eye at the same time as Harry finished, so it was twice as dead as it fell. Honestly, it couldn't have gone better if Harry had tried to hide his magic. He pushed the weapon away quickly, so that the weapon wouldn't cut him more as the orc fell.

Legolas rushed in quickly to make sure that the blade had not cut too deep. "It's just a scratch," Harry assured, but thanked him all the same.

Fenrir growled angrily and threw the last orc body on the fire with more force than necessary. Legolas just assumed that the gigantic man was just jealous that Legolas got to save Harry and take the praise and attention from the man. But something didn't feel right and Harry did not seem upset at his near death experience, regardless of the praise he gave the elf. And Harry hung around the burning orc bodies for a suspiciously long time.

Harry woke up in the middle of the night and he wasn't quite sure why at first. It was late, the fires were low, and everyone was asleep. Then he felt it. Fenrir was behind him, and was running his hands up and down Harry's chest, digging in to just the brink of pain. The wolf rolled him onto his back and pulled open the wizards cloak and unbutton the shirt underneath, teasing Harry's nipples with his fingers and then his tongue. Rough hands slid down Harry's sides, pushing down pants and the shorts underneath smoothly with his large palms and rolling Harry to his side again, back against Fenrir's front. Those hands glided over Harry's buttocks and pulled them apart, his thumbs teasing at Harry's hole.

"You know what I saw today?" Harry could feel Fenrir chest rumble when he whispered in Harry's ear. "I saw someone pretending to be Harry, just Harry." With the aid of a little wandless magic by Harry, Fenrir's fingers were coated in oil. He slipped a tip of a thumb into him, and Harry couldn't help the breathless exclamation. "I saw a man who could have killed every orc in less than a minute," Fenrir slipped his finger deeper, "let others endanger themselves to protect him." Fenrir's other thumb was pushed into Harry in a slow torture. "I saw a wizard kill an orc without touching him and then thank an elf for shooting an already dead orc. I want to see you Harry Potter." Fenrir removed his thumbs and lined up his cock with Harry's hole, pulling one of Harry's legs up as he pushed into him with one long thrust. "I want to see Harry Potter, the conqueror, the man who defeated the dark lord, the vicious auror that I feared would catch me, the Harry Potter whose name is still half-whispered with reverence all over the world," Fenrir still spoke right in Harry's ear as he kept thrusting, a hands on Harry's leg and hip, drawing him deeper on his cock with each thrust. The warm breathe on his ear made the hair on his body stand up and feel every brush of the werewolf even more. "The Harry Potter whose heart beats with life when he is in the throes of battle, not just sex." Seemingly out of words for now, Fenrir continue to thrust until Harry came and then following soon after, filling Harry with a warm pulse. "I'm a possessive beast, Harry Potter. I won't hide what I am like you and I will do whatever I have to in order to get what I want. "

Harry had drawn his wand and cleaned the mess they made with a flick of it, setting clothes to rights all in the same motion, still deciphering what Fenrir said. It wasn't until he was tucking back down to go to sleep that Harry saw the light of a fire glinting off eyes watching them from the perimeter of camp. Eyes Harry knew well enough by now. Legolas' eyes.

A/n: thank you if you are reading this odd story. It's more for my pleasure so I am happy if you are also enjoying it.


	3. Chapter 3

We, Beasts

Chapter 3

The final part of the journey the next day was blessedly short as it was the most awkward experience that Harry could ever remember. Legolas was not inclined to talk, Harry was sure that his face, ears ,and neck blushed red the entire trip, and Gimli's questions went unanswered. Harry almost face planted in his haste to get off the horse when they finally arrived at Edoras. He was only saved by a hand on his shoulder by Fenrir, who gave him and the elf a wicked smirk before carrying on. People swarmed around them, taking horses to shelter, and escorting guests to quarters to rest.

"Um, we should talk later," Harry offered the elf, but he trailed off at the end since Legolas walked away.

"Ha, trouble in paradise?" Gimli said good-naturedly with a pat on his back. "Don't worry, elves are quite well known for their temper tantrums. My father told me a story about Legolas' father, Thranduil. See, they had stumbled their way through the Mirkwood on a quest, completely lost..." Gimli went on to regale Harry with a story about how the dwarves were imprisoned and escaped using wine barrels. It was quite the tale and had Harry smiling again. "Maybe later, I can tell you about the dragon, Smaug."

Harry agreed and they were separated, Gimli to a war meeting, and Harry was shown to a room, it was filled with beds and was obviously a barracks of sorts, empty for now of people but their stuff was left behind, claiming their spots. Not wanting to just sit around restlessly, Harry had his guide show him to the bathing facilities, and a bath later, Harry searched out the kitchens to eat. Noticing they were short-staffed, he stuck around to lend a hand. By the time the head cook kicked him out to take a break, it was dark and Harry smelled of fresh baked bread and cakes. He spent a moment on the ramparts, staring into the sky, trying to find his favorite constellations. Alas, the night sky was foreign and not a comforting familiarity could be offered by it.

He spent a few minutes meditating and clearing his mind of all the turbulent thoughts. When he was done, more time must have passed than he had intended and he was no longer alone. Legolas stood out by the battlement wall, looking out into the darkness. His eyes shone with a magic unknown to Harry, but must have allowed him to see better and further than any man.

Harry flamed red again at the thought. "I'm sorry you had to see that," Harry offered in apology.

"I'm not," Legolas said, still not looking at Harry. "You are even more beautiful in your moment of passion and I desire to have you for myself even more. I know I could be a better lover than your beast."

Harry was taken aback. It seems he had misread the situation completely. "I'm not sure I understand."

"My emotions are at war and I am unsure what I think," Legolas continued. "I knew you were not telling the whole truth, you were keeping information back, but now that I know the truth I feel...betrayed. You are a wolf playing a sheep."

Harry laughed thinking that Legolas had mixed up what Fenrir was with him. "I'm not the wolf, what are you talking about?"

"These ears are more than adornments. I can hear better than any man," the elf said, turning finally to face Harry fully. The intensity in his eyes took Harry by surprise. He was being regarded as if he were a Class XXXXX dangerous beast. "I heard what he said to you that night. About you. You are no school teacher. You are a wizard!"

"Ah, well, to be fair, I am a teacher at a school for wizards," Harry explained, " They are much more common from where we are from, thousands of them."

"I can't help feeling betrayed, thinking that you needed protection when you could be the very thing needed to take down the Dark lord Sauron," Legolas whispered, eyes still burning in their regard on Harry. Harry considered this new angle of the elf's ire.

"Is that what you want?" Harry asked, magic pulling around him. The wind picked up and swirled around them and the smell of lightning filled the air. "For me to magically solve all of your problems? Problems that your ancestors and the rest of this world have let fester for centuries not bothering to take care of it until the last moment when it has gathered enough power to change your way of life?" The sky darkened and the wind howled in a vortex around the two. Harry continued, "You want an outsider to do the work you yourselves could do. You want me to unleash my power upon your enemies, not mine mind you. I have no grudge in this battle, this war. But you want to tap into the unknown, let me slay down a monster," Harry's eyes had been glowing, but a sudden increase in the magical surge around them and they turned red, "without knowing the consequences and maybe even leaving a worst beast in its place. A beast no one could defeat because I know no pain or suffering too great to put me down?" Legolas could not stand the vortex of magic anymore, and fell to his knees, crying out in pain.

The wind and the darkness immediately dissipated. The stars seemed to shine brighter than before, and the air was easier to breathe. Legolas looked up to find Harry lounging against the wall, deep in thought but otherwise, looking no different than before. But now that his eyes had been opened, Legolas could see it all. The brilliance of his eyes, the way his messy hair seemed to defy gravity, an ethereal glow to his skin - Harry Potter was full to the brink with power. And he hid it to protect himself.

"Who has hurt you? Who has made you feel this way?" Legolas asked, moving closer and unafraid.

Moments passed in silence and Legolas thought that maybe he had gone too far. He wanted to take Harry up in his arms and protect him against the world, but he knew to Harry it should be the other way around, that Legolas should protect the world against Harry Potter.

Finally, Legolas' patience won out. Harry began, "I fought in a war. Ended a war really. At one point, it was essentially me against a whole army. Though I had friends that had my back, there was nearly nothing they could do. This battle was fated since before I was born, me against him and his army. And then I fought. And won. And when my battle was over, I fought all of his followers until nearly every last one was in jail or dead. And then I kept fighting the next person, no matter how far I had to go to find the next villain and the next until a friend, my dear Hermione, the smartest of her generation, was able to show me how wrong I was." Harry stepped away from the wall and moved over to the rampart, staring out into the inky blackness of the night, barely able to make out much with just the foreign stars to light the way. He continued at just a whisper that even Legolas had trouble hearing, "Life was going on while I was fighting. And while everyone around me got married, had kids, and aged, I was stuck, perpetually 17. And I was acting like I was in the war still, where every death was my fault. I was starting to disregard the lives I took. I treated it like balancing some cosmic equation of who deserves to live and who deserves to die and I didn't care what sort of magic I had to use to make sure they were dead. I was growing increasingly emotionless and out-of-tune with my loved ones. I was missing my godson growing up."

Harry turned now, away from the black void and leaned against the rampart, watching Legolas with those bright, piercing green eyes. "But I knew I had to be strong for him, like no one was for me, and so I broke the cycle. Separated myself as far away from temptation as I could. I've been at peace ever since. I can't imagine where I would be right now if I hadn't, what I would have missed of my friends and family. I can't imagine how I expected to go on: living forever fighting battles that weren't mine. Deciding fates that I am no longer capable of having myself. It was wrong of me."

For a while, the night was silent again except for the sound of the wind or the distant clang of metal as weapons were prepped for battle. Legolas' brow was knit together in deep thought, eyes seeing all of Harry and past him at the same time. Finally, he placed a warm hand on Harry's arm, "I was not there for your childhood and I cannot understand what you had to go through. It seems like you made the best decisions you could have."

Legolas' hand on his arm guided Harry away for the ramparts, and the dark void of night, and into the warm candle light of the room Legolas had been provided with. Briefly Harry noticed that it was much more lavish than the barrack-like room he had been provided with. Legolas laid him down on the bed. "The elves are eternal as well, but we can die if killed or if we fade," Legolas explained softly as he undressed. " We mostly excuse ourselves of the world of men, and ignore the plights of the mortals as well," he continued as he turned to help Harry out of his clothesl. Legolas was full of warmth and every space that he touched on Harry chased away the chill of the night, on his cheeks and brow at first and then his chest and sides as Legolas kissed him so sweetly and gently that Harry felt as if his soul would rise out of his chest to join with Legolas'. It was nearly painful, but in the best way, as if his heart missed a beat because it wanted to synchronize with Legolas' heartbeat and make them one. Legolas' hands took their warmth from his lower back, slid down his cleft, and found his opening, gently circling it to prep him for their coming union. Harry used a wave of his had to magically coat Legolas' fingers in lube to ease their entrance. Legolas raised a brow and smirked as he felt the magic on his fingers.

He pushed a finger in and Harry's entire body flooded with warm and he couldn't help but moan in pleasure. Legolas added another finger, then a third as he said, "But we are fighting an immortal now and that cannot be ignored. Nor can we ignore the army of dark creatures he has crafted." His voice was husky and his pupils blown wide.

Legolas arranged them so that Harry was on his back but his legs were thrown over Legolas' shoulders to make the right angle for their connection. Another wave of Harry's hand and Legolas' member was coated in the same slick lube. He pressed it against Harry's entrance but refused to move until Harry met his eyes. When Harry did, Legolas' first thrust was long and deep, making Harry groan out the elf's name. Harry whispered his admission in this moment of pause, "My blood boils for it, for such a battle. Sometimes, I hardly feel as if I am alive anymore. Just a hollow shell of what I once was."

Legolas began to thrust in earnest, his gaze a scorching heat as he looked at Harry as if he was so precious that Harry could barely stand the gaze. In the side of his mind, Harry noticed that Legolas had a hand out of sight and behind himself, but the elf's next thrust was right to his prostrate and Harry's thoughts flew out of his head. Legolas was relentless in his thrusting until Harry came quickly against their stomachs. Legolas paused for just long enough for Harry to regain his senses before starting a slow, deep rhythm that left Harry feeling completely full and claimed by the elf. By the time Legolas came inside of him, Harry was fully hard again and made a whining noise at it being over.

Legolas shushed him softly with a kiss, "It's not over, my Harry. Elves practice something called Mel -o tád," he explained, arranging them again. This time, he lowered Harry's legs gently to the bed and then put his knees on either side of Harry's hips. "In the mouth of Men," Legolas said, looking thoughtful for a moment as he searched for a good translation. Legolas lined up his own entrance to Harry's hard length and bared down. "Agh!" the elf moaned as he began to work himself up and down on top of Harry. At that point, Harry didn't think he needed a translation anymore. Harry pulled the elf down for a kiss and ravished the elf's mouth as he thrust up into the elf, slipping hand between to grab Legolas' length and increase his pleasure. With the extra stimulation, Legolas didn't last long and Harry followed quickly afterwards as Legolas' insides squeezed him tightly.

In the quiet of their afterglow, Harry sleepily confessed, "I yearn for the days that I knew no peace. I was carved from such places."

Legolas kissed his brow and responded, "I would love to see you set free upon the forces of evil. To see you fight as you have described to me. I feel as if I would forget the heroes of all the songs. I could hardly think of a more beautiful sight." Legolas tucked Harry more firmly into bed and Harry slept peacefully through the night.

The next morning, Harry was woken abruptly with a bucket of water poured over him.

"What the hell!" Harry shouted, trying to catch his bearings.

"You smell bad," Fenrir offered unapologetically, "I thought you could use a bath."

"Ugh!" Harry responded while the werewolf turned and left. Harry flopped back down to the sopping wet bed and put his arm over his face, groaning at the mess he had gotten himself into. Jealous lovers was the last thing he needed in this strange land but he hadn't thought of that the night before.

With no clue where Legolas was, Harry decided it was probably time to go and find something to occupy his time with and try to stay out of trouble for at least the day. Luckily, he knew a drying spell to take care of the mess in the room. The kitchen was fully staffed for the day so after grabbing a light meal from there, Harry sought out the infirmary, sure that he could do some good. Harry was not a mediwizard and he had no access to the usual potions, but he knew enough first aid spells because of being an auror and a school teacher to mend broken bones and speed healing.

Unfortunately, Harry's desire to stay out of trouble for the day was for naught. On top of the whispers of "wizard" that began to go around by the ones he healed with magic, Harry could hardly take a second of break or turn a corner without either Fenrir or Legolas grabbing him and trying the snog the life out of him. He had been pushed against some many walls and kissed so much in the duo's jealous one-upmanship, that Harry was ready to put his invisibility cloak on to disappear. The worst part was he kept forgetting to put an end to it the second he was in their embrace because, physically, it felt too good. The drama continued over dinner in the great hall with snarky comments and Harry had to shrug his shoulders at Gimli's and Galdalf's (the two who were more clued in on the situation than anyone else) curious glances. Harry took to entertaining the hobbits for the rest of the evening and even bunking with them for the night because their presence kept the other two at bay. Sadly, when Pippin foolishly looked into the orb and Gandalf had to flee with him directly to Gondor, Harry saw it as a golden opportunity to get some space to think. Harry didn't even mind confirming the rumors that had been flying around about being a wizard and transformed into his animagus form to join Gandalf and Pippin on their ride. And so, for the first time in his life, Harry happily ran away from his problems...for a little while.


End file.
